Spin a Wicked Web by Cricket McRae Page B

appreciate that." He sounded so much more grown up
than he looked, with the barbed wire tattoos on his biceps and the
metal sprouting out of his face. And he'd never be able to fix the
damage from those rivets in his ears.
    Then his eyes welled up with tears, and he turned quickly away.
Raising a hand in farewell, he practically jogged down the street.
    Ohmygosh. What was that all about? Ariel had had the most
amazing effect on the male of the species. How did she do it?

     
THIRTEEN

    BARR AND ROBIN HAD talked to Jake and Felicia already, to no
avail. I didn't know her very well, but perhaps I'd have better luck
talking to Felicia Beagle than they had. For one thing, I was a
woman, and I'd found women tended to talk more readily to another women. And then there was also the fact that I wasn't Detective Robin Lane.
    Jake had gone back to the office. If Felicia was at home, she'd
likely be alone.
    The Beagles lived in a new McMansion in a recently developed
neighborhood on the east side of town. Their house had a turret,
for heaven's sake, and enormous columns flanked the stone steps. I
felt like a poor cousin as I parked my old truck in the driveway and
got out. There were no vehicles in sight, but there wouldn't be.
These were not people who parked on the street.
    The doorbell reverberated inside, a long musical tone that
would have driven me nuts after a month. Maybe they didn't get
many visitors. Maybe Felicia was tone deaf. She opened the door almost immediately, and I wondered whether she was expecting
someone.
     
    "Hi," I said. "I don't think we've formally met, but I'm a member
of the Cadyville Regional Artists' Co-operative with your husband."
    "Of course," she said. "Ms. Reynolds, isn't it?"
    "Sophie Mae, please."
    "And I'm Felicia. Won't you come in?"
    "Thank you."
    The interior was decorated expensively, but still felt comfortable and welcoming. The furniture-lots of leather and dark
wood-was oversized, which probably suited Jake just fine. Several of his framed photographs adorned the walls, along with a
variety of drawings and simple watercolors. The intense, almost
cloying perfume from a gardenia in the hallway drifted around us
as we walked by, the sound of our footsteps echoing back faintly
from the vaulted ceiling.
    Felicia herself, perfectly coifed as always, wore white capris and
a white T-shirt with a short white jacket. Her manicured toes were
painted deep red, and housed within thin, white strappy sandals.
    "Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked as she led me into
the living room.
    "Thanks, but I'm fine. I hope I'm not disturbing you," I said.
    "Oh, no," she said. "I'm taking the day off today."
    On my days off I wore sweats or shorts and a T-shirt. Heck, I
wore the same things when I was working. I sat in a wingback upholstered in butter-soft red leather. No chair should be allowed to
be that comfortable. Visitors would never leave.
    "Where are you working?" I asked.
     
    Her chin lifted. "I volunteer for a variety of organizations in both
Cadyville and Seattle. I'm particularly interested in the theater." She
settled gracefully into the matching leather sofa.
    I cocked my head, recognition dawning. "You were an actress,
weren't you? I recognize you now. What were you in? Let me
think..."
    "I like to say I'm still an actress, though, truth be told, I haven't
been paid for it for years." Her voice was smooth and pleasant, her
manner warm.
    I held up my palms. "I'm sorry. I can't remember where I know
you from."
    "Most people don't recognize me at all. I did a few commercials, years ago. And I played Malissa Harris on Mountain Time for
part of one season."
    "Of course! I watched Mountain Time when I was in college. It
was one of the first prime-time soaps, and since I lived in Colorado I loved that it was set in Vail. You," I pointed at her, "were a
very evil lady."
    She laughed. "I was indeed. Downright ruthless. I loved playing
that character. I